


Sweetest Prize

by msmooseberry



Series: Sweetest Prize Verse [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is the Empress, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bondage as a cultural element, Breeding, Gladiators au, Lance is her apprentice, M/M, Magic, Omega worshipping, Threesome - M/M/M, and the Highest Priestess, made up pagan religion, not the canon type but more like the Roman Empire type, where gladiators are like celebrities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-04-04 08:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14016171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmooseberry/pseuds/msmooseberry
Summary: In the two years that Shiro fought at the arena he learned that it took as much as it gave, but when the Highest Priestess herself comes to see the gladiators, bringing her young apprentice along, he gets the chance to obtain a prize like no other. He only needs to bring down this black hooded alpha wielding a Marmoran blade first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I came upon hardlynotnever’s blog on [tumblr](https://hardlynotnever.tumblr.com/), and got inspired by the arts of Lance in bondage, because they are really beautiful. Then I read Something Blue by WHUMPBBY and realised that I need more Lance in harness (which is part of the galra culture in the fic) in my life, this is what came out of it. It’s going to be a two-shot and also my first attempt at writing a threesome, no major dark themes, no non-con. Hope you’ll enjoy it.

The crowd was roaring, the tiers alive with what seemed like thousands of limbs and voices, urging him to fight to the end, yearning to see him kill. Again. Shiro looked at his third opponent for today, chest plate cracked where Shiro’s prosthetic arm slashed across it, letting blood ooze out from a fairly deep wound underneath and splatter on the sand.

It was Prorok, chief commander of the Southern fleet and a highly respected member of society. And yet here he was, fighting at the arena like any other alpha. Shiro knew of him and of his glorious past as one of the top gladiators. Ruthless and cold blooded he used to win almost every fight, and even when he didn’t the spectators were too fond of him to let him be killed. But that time had long past, and now Prorok stood before Shiro breathing heavily and clutching a sword, still untainted by his opponent’s blood, in a slightly trembling hand. He had lost his helmet in the first ten minutes of the fight, so Shiro could clearly see his face even from a ten-step distance: greying black hair were plastered to the sweat covered forehead, bushy brows furrowed into a pained scowl and lips pulled into an angry snarl, but what stood out most in his seemingly fierce expression were the eyes - they were wide and disbelieving, with streaks of panic and almost fear. Although they never met personally, Shiro knew that the alpha hated losing but felt that it was exactly what was happening, and the bitter distressed scent that wafted off him in thick waves spoke even louder than his wavering stance and laboured breath.

“Why don’t you just admit defeat?” there was no mocking in Shiro’s words, because for all his glory as a perfect warrior and a professional killer, he wasn’t your typical alpha, and rather preferred to end fights with as little blood as possible. He still killed his opponents when the audience demanded, that was just how it went at the arena where alphas came to show off their strength and skill to earn money and, more importantly, acknowledgement as potent mating partners. Normally, those were younger unmated alphas who participated, but today was a special day, so Shiro ended up facing Prorok, an alpha almost twice his age but just as desperate to win.

“I won’t give in! Especially to someone like you,” Prorok spat out, glaring at Shiro’s right arm, who clenched it into a fist on impulse, magic surging through metal tendons and giving it a light purple glow.

“You had your say,” he growled low in his throat, the sound drowning in the excited hoots and shouts of the ravenous bloodthirsty crowd, and lunged forward. There was too much at stake to stay benign, and with five powerful strides, a forceful jump and a lethal blow that Prorok could see coming but could do nothing to stop, Shiro had the alpha sprawled on his back, blade-like glowing palm buried deep in his left shoulder. An anguished cry left Prorok’s gaping mouth when Shiro twisted his fingers in the wound.

“Slay him! Slay him! Slay him!” the crowd boomed, the words pulsing against the granite walls and a high dome of a ceiling, but Shiro wasn’t acting on their whim like he usually did, today it was not for them to decide. He glanced at the royal box set high above the arena and caught sight of the regal figure, draped in white silk, sitting on an intricately carved bench, a silvery cloud of hair framing the delicate dark features of a beautiful face. Empress Allura, the Highest Priestess of Altea graced the arena with her presence today and Shiro watched with bated breath as she turned her head slightly to the side to exchange words with someone who stayed out of sight, just like she did the previous two times when Shiro pinned an opponent down. He assumed it was another omega and couldn’t wait to please them both, be it with an act of mercy or a ruthless murder.

A shiver of excitement ran through Shiro’s body at the mere though of having the omegas’ undivided attention, even if it was at the moment when he became reduced to his animal instincts and was expected to demonstrate raw power and dominance. Seeing them this up close was a miracle in itself, and the chance to catch their eye was worth pretty much anything.

Omegas, were rare and extremely valued not only because of their heavenly appearance, but because they bore the ancient magic, that held the secrets of life, within them and could channel it through their bodies into the world. That’s why they were called life givers by the common folk. When an omega was born, it was celebrated for three days and the family was supported by the Highest Priestess for the rest of their lives, while the omega was taken to the Temple of Lions to become her apprentice and learn how to use their inborn power. Once the apprenticeship ended, the omega either stayed at the temple in the capital, Oriande, or was sent to smaller temples scattered all across the Empire to perform their holy duties, from blessing the crops and cattle to healing ill and wounded. If it wasn’t for an omega, Shiro would’ve been crippled now, and instead of a fully functioning metal arm and a trustworthy weapon would’ve had only an ugly useless stump. He didn’t know who the omega who healed him and gave him that arm was, he was delirious from pain and after-battle shock at the time, but he always remembered them in his prayers.

The Empress finally turned back to the arena and her sharp blue eyes locked with Shiro’s black ones. The alpha felt his heart miss a beat when she nodded at him, holding her hand up in a fist. A signal to finish the fallen warrior off. Shiro looked down.

“Do it,” Prorok gurgled, gaze already turning hazy from pain and adrenaline drop. Shiro gave him a curt nod and sliced through his ribcage, piercing the heart quickly and efficiently. The alpha let out one last breath, wet and trembling, then the mutilated chest stilled and his whole body went limp. Shiro stood up, ripping his hand out with a thick squelching sound, and the crowd erupted in a new wave of shouts mixed with whistling and applause. But Shiro paid them no mind, his attention focused solely on the angelic figure watching him from above. It was dizzying to realise how a being so pure could watch a scene so cruel in its nature and not bat an eyelash. Then again, aside from assisting to the birth of new life, omegas also saw to its safe departure to the underworld and performed burial ceremonies which included animal sacrifices to the Lion Gods. Gladiator fights were once part of these ceremonies as well, the death of a worthy warrior being the ultimate sacrifice, but lately they had become more of an entertainment for the common folk, held almost weekly and at numerous arenas at once. Omegas rarely visited them any more, and that was why seeing Her Imperial Highness today was such a big deal.

Shiro fell to one knee and bowed his head low, facing the royal box. Three fights in a row were taking their toll on him, but he couldn’t let it show. Not now. He had a feeling in his gut that whatever the reason for the Empress’ interest was, he couldn’t let her lose it.

“Rise, mighty warrior, you did well so far, the Empress is impressed with your strength and stamina,” Shiro’s head snapped up to see Coran, the royal advisor, speak on behalf of the Empress who still looked down on him with a serious expression. He continued, “You may rest now.”

Shiro felt confused and mildly surprised he wasn’t given another opponent straight away. He knew he could take another one just fine, but who was he to question the decisions of the god-like omega? He bowed once again, then rose and left the arena to wait for his turn, hoping that it would come. Something was definitely up, if the new fighting arrangements were anything to judge by.

While he stayed in the room specially assigned for participating gladiators and sipped on a cup of water, Shiro could hear the tell-tale sounds of feet stomping, metal meeting metal with sharp clangs and clanks, fierce growls and pained howls and whimpers. He felt that this was where he belonged. The service in the regular troops should have left him broken and lacking, but instead brought him to the present day - a strong capable alpha in his prime, fighting to polish his skill and entertain the public, constantly the centre of attention, never alone.

Of course, deep down Shiro understood that this was only his way of coping with the loss of all his friends in that battle two years ago. Some measly rebellion turned ugly and their troop was sent to intervene. Who knew it would cost him everything? Back in the day it all seemed so easy, so natural, serving the country, protecting its people, all in the glory of the Highest Priestess, and then it wasn’t. Just to think what a furious mob could be capable of, even when armed with self-made weapons and relying more on rage than skill. What sparked it exactly no one could tell in the aftermath, some landlords’ quarrel over stock or game, a drunken fight over a love interest in one of the pubs, the Druids’ propaganda shouted in the right place at the right time, - it could have been anything but the outcome was one and the same. Shiro’s troop had been crushed, and just like it, the old Shiro was no more. He was never the same after that, and yet never gave up hope. If it was the arm that brought him this strange sense of peace he shouldn’t have felt at all, Shiro didn’t know, but he was endlessly grateful for it, and was determined to carry on living, be it only for the sake of satisfying the greedy crowd. He was more than willing to put on a show as long as it gave him a sense of belonging.

It was easy enough to loose track of time in the closed space of the room, but when he was called back to the arena, Shiro was certain that it had barely been an hour. In that amount of time he had counted three ravenous outbursts of the spectators, and guessed that was how many fighters had been victorious. Or it could be just one gladiator, but in that case the odds were against him, because, now well-rested and incited by the sounds of battle, Shiro was ready to tear apart whoever was waiting for him out there. If that was what the Highest Priestess wanted, of course. Who knew, maybe this time she would be the one to crown the victor with the golden wreath, and in all honesty, what an alpha wouldn’t do to get the whiff of her heavenly scent and feel the faintest brush of her delicate fingers.

When Shiro stepped under the blinding light that illuminated the arena, he squinted until his eyes adjusted to its glare and slowly took in the warm yellow sand which now sported ugly bruises here and there, dark crimson and fresh - parting gifts from its bravest warriors. The crowd cheered and he let himself be carried by its deafening roar closer to the centre, where his new opponent stood.

Shiro studied him critically, taking in a much smaller body clad in black and purple, with arms left bare safe for a pair of fingerless gloves and a hood covering the head in such a manner that it was impossible for Shiro to get a glimpse of his face. Clutched in the mystery man’s right hand was a single-edged sword wrought of black iron and covered in runes enchanted to empower and protect its master. A noble then, and a blade of Marmora no less. It looked like Shiro was especially lucky today to be fighting not one, but two alphas whose status was way higher than his. But in this case the age gap between them seemed to be in Shiro’s favour. Despite the confident stance the alpha before him was at least half a decade younger, judging by his sinewy build and a fresh streak in his still not fully formed scent. Shiro would’ve brushed him off as a harmless fledgling were it not for a thin trail of blood glistening dimly as it dribbled off his lethal weapon and a thick menacing aura that came off him, making it crystal clear that all he wanted at the moment was to slit open Shiro’s throat. And oh, was Shiro ready to face him head on.

He was so engulfed by the desire to start the battle that very instant, he almost missed the flare of movement in the royal box. Reluctantly, Shiro tore his gaze off his soon-to-be opponent and glanced up to see what was the matter, wondering why they hadn’t been ordered to fight yet. The sight that greeted him made Shiro immediately berate himself for not paying attention to the occupants of the box from the very start, because it was truly a sight to behold.

The other omega had showed himself and was now seated right beside Her Imperial Highness. His form was mostly hidden from view by the flowing light blue fabric that only vaguely hinted at the delicious curves where it was hooked onto the white gold rings of the harness, no doubt adorning the body underneath. A thin pearly white collar that hugged the omega’s long beautiful neck gave it away and provided Shiro with enough material for lust-filled fantasies for years to come. It was customary for virgin omegas to wear harnesses, which symbolised their purity, as well as signalled that they had recently come of age and were looking for worthy potent alphas to spend their first and most important cycle with. Until then soft leather bound their bodies and held them tight when no alpha’s hands could. What exactly happened to their bodies as life givers transitioned into adulthood Shiro could never know, but it was believed that wearing harnesses was both comforting and torturous, and that’s why finding the right mate was essential for a successful transitioning. However, the Temple now rarely gave omegas free choice, and even when they attended the gladiator fights it was not up to them to decide who of the warriors would breed them. The final say always belonged to the Highest Priestess, but it was a known fact Allura never let her proteges as much as think about the gladiators and organised her own trials where only a small number of carefully-picked candidates could compete. So Shiro could only guess what made her bring this sweet young life giver with her today and thank her secretly for it, drinking in every tiny detail he could see from afar.

Light blue fabric stood in stark contrast with smooth copper skin and brought out deep azure eyes and a pair of matching blue markings on the apples of his cheeks, which were a sign of the boy’s life giver status, as well as the white hair. But while Allura’s mane was all cloud-like softness and volume, this omega’s long silvery tresses had a liquid quality to them, running past his shoulders in sleek cascades and curling against his chest. It reminded Shiro of the time when he accidentally spilt the milk his mother had brought fresh from the cow and watched it run in small caressing rivulets down his right arm (still human flesh back then). Now he imagined that brushing his hand through those milky white locks would feel just the same.

The craving he felt deep in his gut at the very thought was so intense and so sudden that Shiro started a little when the royal advisor’s clear and loud voice cut through his extremely vivid daydream.

“Attention, dear citizens of Oriande, Her Imperial Highness wishes to address the two brave warriors,” the crowd hushed, all eyes trained on the royal box, and Shiro couldn’t help but sneak a side glance at his opponent, noticing a peculiar tension in his body and sensing nervousness in his wavering scent. He could’ve thought the young alpha was just excited to hear the Empress speak, but he suspected it was something else. Then he looked back to the box and noted how the young omega’s wide ocean-blue eyes were locked on the hooded alpha and shone with a strong emotion Shiro wouldn’t be able to identify even if he tried. It was almost as if the life giver was trying to communicate something by the intense stare alone, and it made Shiro bristle with unfounded jealousy. If there was anyone deserving of the beautiful little being’s attention here, it was him, and he was going to prove it no matter what. All he needed was the permission to start fighting. But the Empress was speaking.

“Gladiators, both of you have proved your worth in fair battle, but now it is time for you to decide whether you will dare to push your own limits and obtain a prize much greater than any of your former glories, or step down and celebrate what you have already achieved,” the pause meant for the alphas to give their answer was immediately filled with the crowd’s encouraging shouts and hoots of disapproval, some of which even had menacing notes, because the avid spectators were always hungry for blood and action and hated not being given what they wanted. Shiro didn’t need to turn to sense the anger flare in the other alpha. It was obvious he wasn’t used to the arena and its workings, but what really surprised Shiro was the expression that flashed across the young omega’s face the moment Allura stopped speaking. Was it anxiety, desperation, panic? Whatever it was it quickly disappeared as he schooled his face back into indifference and aloofness, and only his eyes remained glued to the man on the arena. The man who was not Shiro.

Once there was a lull in the crowd’s screaming, Shiro wanted to voice his readiness for anything that was in store, but his opponent beat him to it, saying sharp and clear, “I’m in, victory or death.” The spectators erupted with cheers and whistles.

And Shiro was quite taken aback by the level of certainty that rang in that young voice. The kid definitely wasn’t saying that just to look tough, he meant every word, and Shiro suddenly felt a strong pang of guilt. He was going to crush him after all. He looked at the Empress as he said, “It will be my honour to fight before your eyes, Your Highness,” and bowed curtly at the end to emphasise his deep respect. That seemed to satisfy Allura and she continued after motioning for the people to be quiet.

“Very well, because this battle will determine which of you will free this ripe life giver from his harness and teach him what being a true omega really means,” her intonation was strangely stern and clipped, but Shiro didn’t mind it as much as the sense that her words held. The suspicions that hadn’t even had the time to fully form in his mind were suddenly confirmed, the upcoming battle would be for the greatest prize ever given to an alpha - to breed an omega in his first heat.

Shiro stood stunned, the realisation slowly taking over him and turning his body into a furnace burning with unprecedented passion and eagerness. He never thought he would be deemed good enough to participate in an event of such great importance, and that was when he still had his right arm intact. Now, despite being able to fight better than ever before Shiro couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he had been tainted and the new appendage, which was unarguably of great service, still reminded him that he would never be quite whole again. That’s why he was definitely not fit to be any omega’s mate, let alone this ethereal innocent creature who watched him with unveiled terror at the moment. His eyes were such a wonderful shade of blue that as they glistened with unshed tears it looked almost as if precious stones had melted and were ready to spill over the silver rimmed edges. Shiro ached to run his thumbs across the smooth cheeks and soothe the omega’s inexplicable fear. If he won, or rather when he did, he would do just that.

The self-made promise helped Shiro get a grip on himself and he turned to face his opponent who, as it turned out, had already taken a fighting stance. The blade was gripped in the alpha’s hand so tight Shiro could see the white of his knuckles above the cut off fingers of the gloves. He smirked. It would take much more than a sturdy blade to get a good hit on him. And with that Shiro positioned his right arm before him, letting the hand form a blade of its own and start to rapidly fill with magic, powered by his unwavering will. The young alpha really had no chance, because there was no way Shiro would let anyone stand between him and the sacred prize. How did the boy put it again, ‘victory or death’? Then death for him it was.

The signal from above their heads spurred both alphas into action, the battle began. Shiro had to admit his opponent was fast and agile, his attacks swift and precise, but that couldn’t fully compensate the lack of fighting experience at the arena that Shiro had in abundance. He knew the space they were moving around like the back of his hand, and used this knowledge to his advantage when he leapt away from the slashes of the deadly sword, counting steps and knowing that when he took one the alpha had to take three. Soon enough his movements slowed down a bit, which wasn’t surprising - Shiro saw how worn out he was from the previous battles and now the exhaustion must have finally kicked in. It was his cue.

With a swift turn and a powerful thrust Shiro kicked the sword out of his opponent’s hand, his metal palm grazing the boy’s right cheek. He was a mere inch away from cutting right through his head, but it seemed the young alpha had shifted at the last moment, then ducked and rushed past Shiro to put some distance between them while he got his bearings. The hit he received followed by a rapid retreat dislodged the black hood, and when the boy faced him next, Shiro could finally take in his face. The right cheek had an angry red slash across it, bleeding profusely, but that was not what immediately caught Shiro’s attention. The alpha was indeed very young, his features pale and smooth, and were it not for the fierce scowl and burning violet eyes Shiro wouldn’t have taken him for an alpha at all. There was a peculiar softness about him that was impossible to overlook, and Shiro wondered briefly if that was the reason he hid behind a piece of cloth for so long. Still, the bitter concentrated scent that pulsed off him reminded Shiro not to let his guard down just yet. Even without his weapon the boy looked like he was going to rip his throat out with his bare hands, or die trying. And Shiro was okay with that.

They clashed in hand-to-hand combat, where Shiro clearly had an advantage, but he somehow hesitated to put the little feisty alpha out of his misery too fast because he was giving this battle his all. And yet, in the end it came down to Shiro pinning his opponent to the sandy floor of the arena, arm raised and ready to land the final blow. He gazed into the stormy eyes of the boy beneath him, who kept stubbornly silent even in the face of death, and was just about to strike when a shrill panicked voice rang over the mad crowd’s cheering.

“Stop it! Stop! Stop!” Shiro froze. A strange sensation washed over him at that moment. It was almost as if something icy cold seized hold of his prosthetic arm and sent sharp spikes over his body, paralysing it for a couple of seconds. He gasped for breath once the queer sensation disappeared and fell back from the alpha he was about to kill, turning automatically to the source of the voice.

It was the virgin life giver, who now stood at the edge of the royal box, hands gripping the granite edge with such force the dark skin of his fingers turned ashen grey. His face was a mask of horror and his eyes were blazing bright neon blue, as well as the marks on his cheeks. He was looking at Shiro but his gaze seemed to pass right through him, as though peering into his very core. Shiro shuddered involuntarily but quickly recovered and assumed a kneeling position, showing how willing he was to comply with the omega’s order. But before he bowed his head he caught sight of the Empress, who wore a mildly astonished expression and watched her protege with curiosity, but didn’t make any moves to stop him. The spectators grew eerily quiet, no doubt shocked by what had happened and dying to learn what it was all about as well.

“You won’t be fighting to death,” the omega said, voice still rather high but firm, “because I will take you both.”

In roughly five seconds of stunned silence that followed Shiro heard the words echo in his own head, clear yet absolutely surreal. For an omega to take two mates, and for their first cycle no less, it was virtually unprecedented. Alright, there might have been tales about such cases but Shiro always wrote them off as myths, centred around trying to get into the Lion Gods’ good graces during fertility festivals or something like that. Shiro never thought he would witness it happen in his lifetime, more so that it would happen to him. His musings got interrupted by the movement he caught from the corner of his eye - the young alpha scrambled to his feet and was now glaring at the royal box with such intensity Shiro wondered what reason he had to be so displeased.

“Do you mean to say you are willing to give yourself to these two alphas in equal measure?” Allura’s words had a certain inflection that Shiro could not quite understand. Was she mad at the fledgling omega, or was she satisfied with his decision? Was him deciding here even an option? He didn’t see them interact as he still held his head low, for fear of appearing too overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events. He was, of course, but he also had an image to uphold.

“And you deem yourself ready for that?” now this question clearly sounded mocking, Shiro could even picture a derogatory smirk playing on the Empress’ lips as she said that, and it made him feel bad for the omega who was brave enough to go up against her, because this clearly hadn’t been planned.

“Yes, I am ready,” the omega’s voice was more heavy now, and Shiro couldn’t help but admire him even more for the certainty with which he spoke, even if Shiro could very well guess that what the young life giver was saying was not entirely true.

“I believe you,” Shiro tensed, anticipation too strong to let him breathe properly, but he tried to look composed, as the Highest Priestess addressed them, “Rise then, chosen mates, Shirogane Takashi and Kogane Keith.”

Shiro did, as did his opponent, Keith, and the crowd roared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially intended to make it a nice two-shot but this part has been sitting in my notes for so long I might as well post it. It's kinda slow-paced and the spicy stuff will come only in the next chapter. Still, have a nice read.

The sound of water rushing down into the shallow marble pool, never raising past his ankles but pleasantly enveloping his whole body in its smooth flowing embrace as it passed, brought Shiro the sense of calm he had long forgotten. The life of the arena made sure the alpha never had his peace and quiet for too long before the crowd became greedy and demanded bloody spectacles again. Now that Shiro stood in the water and enjoyed the pleasant cool currents, keeping his eyes half-closed not to let stray droplets irritate them, he could look around the bath house languidly while he washed himself.

As soon as the crowd had somewhat calmed down after the announcement of the Highest Priestess, he and the other alpha, his rival - Keith, his name was Keith, he kept reminding himself for some reason (probably because his opponents rarely lived long enough to introduce themselves properly in a friendlier setting, or just weren’t particularly inclined to do so) - both of them had been taken to the Temple’s premises and escorted to the spacious bath house to clean themselves up for what was to come. That’s why Shiro scrubbed so vigorously over his skin, already flushed red from the insistent press of a soft wash cloth, but the alpha had to make sure every inch of him was free of any lingering dirt. Anything that had come in contact with the arena was unworthy of the beautiful young omega’s touch, which Shiro craved like nothing before. He stubbornly ignored the fact that he wouldn’t be the only one permitted to approach the life giver tonight. So far everything had been too much like a wonderful dream, and Shiro wasn’t too eager to spoil it by plunging back into harsh reality.

For better or for worse, the two chosen mates hadn’t stayed alone for too long as each was immediately assigned his own guide - the Temple’s youngest apprentices, half-fledgling omegas who were getting the first feel of their magic and had hair that had yet to turn fully white. They wore dark blue tunics with arms and legs exposed and had golden cuffs and bracelets adorning their wrists and ankles. These omegas were charming and a little less ethereal than the fully matured ones, which made it easier for Shiro to move around them and not second-guess his every step. He couldn’t believe he was going to see the stunning young beauty in all his harnessed glory in a matter of minutes. Half an hour still counted as minutes in Shiro’s head so he hurriedly massaged his scalp, rubbing in the oils his little guide had instructed him to use.

It was a small but sturdy girl, with broad shoulders and big hands, her brown curly hair already had a few streaks of white and Shiro guesses she must be making good progress in whatever training all omegas received here. She had large silver rings in her ears which swayed a little as she walked down the wide stone corridor of the bath house, quietly explaining to him what his role was from now on and what he could and couldn’t do. Her voice echoed off the walls and made the situation appear even more surreal to Shiro who listened in a bit of a haze. At that time he was still quite shell shocked by Allura’s decision, but now the information the little omega had poured onto him some good fifteen minutes before finally started to register and settle heavily in Shiro’s mind.

This night he would have to show his prowess once again and free the young life giver of his harness, which would immediately send him into full heat. It was then that the chosen mates were to connect their essences with the omega’s in order to create a new life, endowed with both strength and powerful magic. From the cryptic explanation Shiro understood that he was expected to breed the omega until he was with child. He was thankful the little apprentice hadn’t used that exact wording though, because even if he had no doubt omegas held wisdom greater than any other human being’s, hearing a kid talk about breeding would’ve been a little unsettling.

But that wasn’t all there was to it, because once Shiro carried out his duty he would become part of the Temple’s High Guard, a position given only to a handful of warriors, the best of the best. All of them were ready to protect the Temple and its residents with their lives because each had been chosen as a life giver’s mate at least once and had a deeper connection with the omegas than anybody else fit enough for the job.

Soon Shiro would be one of them. And so would Keith.

The alpha frowned as he rinsed himself off one last time and got out of the pool. His body was cleaner than it had been in months and it added to his confidence, if only a bit. The metal prosthetic glistened in the dim light of the oil lamps, placed strategically around the room to avoid getting extinguished. Shiro ran a dry cloth over it and then the rest of his body. The magic encased in the lifeless confines returned some of the feeling to his right hand but it was not the same as when he touched things with his left. It reminded him just how far he was from being an ideal guard to the beautiful omega who had chosen him.

Him, and Keith.

Could it be that the life giver knew from the very beginning that him alone would not be enough. Perhaps, he figured it out as soon as he saw Shiro using the prosthetic for battle and thought that he was unable to wield normal swords any more, or that he could not hold a spear and wouldn’t be able to protect him properly if the need arose. Perhaps, it meant that in the end he would be discarded no matter what.

Shiro clenched his teeth, pulling on a short plain tunic and a pair of matching loose pants. The little omega had taken his boots and battle-dirty clothes and gear away while he was bathing, and had left him no shoes, so Shiro stepped out of the bath house barefoot. Then he paused. The Temple loomed ahead, the structure monumental and enormous in the dark.

“Alpha, come, I’ll take you to the mating chamber,” Shiro looked to his right and caught a faint glimmer of golden bracelets a couple of feet ahead. The voice was unfamiliar but he followed when the figure started to move away.

The night was warm and quiet, and as they made their way across the wide open space Shiro couldn’t look away from the dark heavy lines of the massive construction. He had never dreamed of seeing the Temple this up close, and what a sight it was. Tall and authoritative it stood, partly blending into the inky sky above and yet retaining an overwhelming presence. The pictures he had seen in textbooks as a child could never do it justice, especially as it was now: a large dangerous beast resting in a peaceful slumber, designed to protect the sacred secrets of life it had been entrusted with.

Shiro’s eyes wandered over the smooth white columns that seemed to twist and bend in the wavering light of the fire inside. The young priests made sure it burned day and night before the majestic statue of their greatest god - the White Lion. Shiro could only catch a glimpse of the majestic marble figure in passing, granted that the large doors stood ajar, but he hoped he’d still get a chance to kneel before it. It was one thing to pray for good fortune and luck in battle in the bleak impersonal room provided by the arena that he had to call home, but Shiro was certain it would be a completely different matter if he were to ask the gods for a favour standing directly under their watchful eyes. And as he was about to enter another building, following in the steps of his little guide, the alpha knew what his plea would be about.

‘Let me be enough,’ the features of the omega were getting more distinct in the soft orange glow of the torches that lined the new unfamiliar long corridor. ‘Let me prove my worth,’ it was a young boy with a dishevelled mop of brown hair, only a couple strands touched with white. ‘Let me stay,’ they took three turns and ascended one flight of stairs, then the boy stopped.

“From here you shall go on your own,” he gestured to the corridor on his right, scarcely lit and at first glance completely unassuming if it were not for the thin line of light that poured through a crack in the door. For some reason, it didn’t look as inviting as it probably should for Shiro, him being the chosen mate and all.

One of the chosen mates.

Shiro gulped, feeling a lump of nerves clogging up his throat, and missed the opportunity to ask his guide for more instructions - the little omega left him in the semi-darkness, and the soft sound of his retreating bare feet was deafening in the otherwise quiet space. It took Shiro a moment to realise that the heavy pounding he kept hearing long after the boy disappeared out of sight was, in fact, the sound of his own blood rushing through his veins at an unhealthy speed. He needed to calm down before he started sweating and ruined his nice clean clothes. Deep breaths. Easy.

At times when the arena started getting to him and he lay awake at night, thinking of his dead friends or his mother who waited for him to return to the distant little town where he had grown up until the moment it got raided by a group of rogue bandits and was burned to the ground, - at times like this he put every fear and every worry he had in the exhales, imagining that each time he took a new breath, pure untainted energy was filling him, leaving no room for anything bad. Shiro couldn’t remember where he had learned that trick but it really helped and this time, thankfully, was no exception.

Tentatively he stepped into the corridor, approaching the source of light with caution he usually took when approaching particularly dangerous adversaries. Like Keith. No, that wasn’t right, the young alpha was no longer a threat, he was-

Shiro frowned, paused, shook his head and, squaring his shoulders as if he was going into battle, covered the remaining distance in a few determined strides, ready to face whatever lay behind that door. He raised his hand to push at the dark polished wood, then hesitated a moment, thinking whether he should knock first and deciding against it, and was about to make his way inside, strong and confident, just like a true alpha should be, but a voice stopped him.

“Did you expect me to watch you get killed!” it was hushed but clearly indignant and pitched high with faint traces of distress. It was him, Shiro realised with a start, heart jumping at the immediate recognition, it was the virgin omega who had chosen him over so many other alphas as his mate. But not only him.

“I’d rather die than let this happen, Lance, let anyone hurt you, I-,” the deep angry growl got interrupted by a pained hiss. Shiro stood stock still, feeling his insides grow cold.

“Shh, don’t squirm or it won’t heal properly,” there was so much tenderness in the life giver’s voice Shiro couldn’t quench the urge to see the interaction with his own eyes. Too mesmerised to properly evaluate his actions and reconsider his next move, he pushed the door open an inch or so wider and peered inside.

Locating them didn’t take long - the pair was sitting on the side of a large bed in the centre of the room, and once Shiro’s searching gaze fell upon them, he knew he wouldn’t be able to look away even if they turned and spotted him then and there. Luckily, the angle permitted Shiro to take in the sight unnoticed. The young alpha sat facing the omega and, judging by the plain cotton fabric covering his back, wore the same clothes as Shiro. His posture was tense and now that Shiro breathed in the air in the room he could identify an agitated spike to his scent. It mixed with the other one, however, the one that was much softer and soothing, and yet had a tangy undertone of fear in it too. Shiro’s chest clenched as he recognised the scent of the beautiful life giver. He’d dreamed of this moment for so long, but could have never imagined the first whiff of an omega he’d ever get would be this bitter.

He was really, unfairly beautiful, and oh so very young. Sitting intimately close to the alpha, holding the side of his face – the right one that Shiro had slashed and probably badly scarred – the life giver clutched his rival’s hand in his, their intertwined fingers a display of perfectly matched contrast. Shiro took in the dark skin in a kind of trance, his gaze travelling up the thin wrist cuffed with white leather and then further still, along the bare forearm and shoulder that were circled by two more leather bands and looked so enticing in the warm yellow light.

The room was lit by at least three lanterns, and the gently dancing fire made the few pieces of furniture cast quivering shadows on the floor, turning it liquid-like, so that the bed resembled a tiny island that gave refuge to those who needed it most in a sea of doubt and uncertainty. The two boys sitting there were a vivid picture of vulnerability and Shiro felt like he was about to shatter their brittle peace.

‘He called him Lance,’ the sudden realisation made Shiro frown in thought. ‘Could it be that they already-’

“I had to try,” Keith spoke. “ I couldn’t simply wait for that witch to hand you over to some stocky brute she thought was- Ow!”

“You were saying?” the omega’s tone was teasing but left no room for further argument.

“I failed you,” the bitterness in Keith’s voice seeped into his scent and Shiro noticed how his tense shoulders were trembling a little.

“No, no, Keith, listen,” the life giver leaned even closer to the boy and Shiro had to strain his ears to make out what he said next. “Allura knew you’d come, that’s why she-” he paused, hesitating, and when he continued the soft melodious voice acquired a nervous tremor, “She wanted to teach me a lesson and said that following the Gods’ will is the only way, that the one who wins the battle is the one destined for me, but I know it isn’t true!”

Shiro wasn’t sure he wanted to listen any longer but at the same time couldn’t find the courage to make his presence known. The omega – Lance, he reminded himself, feeling somewhat guilty for having learned the name by eavesdropping – shook his head and Shiro watched the long white tresses sway with the movement, noting how tangled they had become, as if somebody had run their hands through them already. Passionately, with abandon, not fearing disgust or rejection. Just like Shiro dreamed he would.

“That other alpha,” Shiro twitched slightly, realising Lance was talking about him, “you would’ve never defeated him, he has- His arm, it’s-,” then he whispered something Shiro didn’t catch, partly because blood was now practically thundering in his ears from the nerves. But he could clearly see the wide worried eyes that were searching Keith’s face for understanding. The young alpha stiffened.

“But he’s not-,” he muttered disbelievingly and for the first time Shiro could smell sharp fear on him too. It made no sense.

“No, but it’s all the same, I saw him fight others before you,” Lance looked to the side. Keith suddenly surged to his feet.

“I’m not letting him touch you! Not with that filthy- We have to get you out of here before it’s too late!” he was about to turn to the door and Shiro braced himself for the inevitable, but Lance caught his wrist and Keith stopped.

“I can’t leave!” he stood up too and Shiro briefly marvelled at how tall and graceful he was. “If Allura finds out I didn’t keep my word, and trust me, she will, we’ll never be together, and I wouldn’t bear it if I lost you.”

“And for that you’re ready to give yourself to a monster?”

In the next moment several things happened. Keith ripped his arm from Lance’s desperate grasp, so that the omega gasped in shock and stumbled back, barely catching himself from falling on the bed. Then both of them looked to the door, expressions equally startled, and Shiro realised a little too late that their fearful eyes were boring straight into him, standing there on the threshold, no longer concealed by the door that had swung wide open. It took him even longer to follow their intense gazes that were locked on his right hand, gripping at the door frame so hard his metal fingers splintered the wood. It also glowed a faint purple and once Shiro focused enough he could feel the magic pulsing through the whole appendage. The shuffling of bare feet on the stone floor made him look back to the two boys.

In the mere seconds that he was distracted Keith had shielded Lance and took a fighting stance akin to that at the arena, only here, clad in thin cotton and weaponless, he hardly posed any threat. And the young alpha knew that because his dark violet eyes kept shifting to the sides, no doubt scoping the room for anything he could use against Shiro. He willed himself to let go of the mutilated frame and made a step forward.

“No, please! Don’t hurt him!” the life giver’s voice pierced the eerie silence and in a flurry of blue Lance placed himself in front of Keith, raising his hands in a pleading gesture. “He didn’t mean disrespect, mighty warrior, his mouth just runs away with him, I assure you that you will get your prize just as you’ve been promised.”

Shiro felt truly sick. It couldn’t have gone any worse: him meeting his dream, a living perfection only to make him scared and miserable the moment he stepped into the room. Not that he had made his entrance particularly smooth, to say nothing of the eavesdropping before that. It was glaringly obvious that he would never be welcome here, no matter how hard he might try, because Lance’s heart only had place for one mate, and it wasn’t him.

Shiro took a deep breath to steady himself before sinking slowly to his knees so as not to intimidate the life giver he would never be worthy of. The boy jerked a little in surprise and Shiro allowed himself to look shortly into the confused blue eyes, then kept his gaze glued to the cold stone beneath.

“It’s me who has to beg for your forgiveness,” he clenched his prosthetic hand in a weak attempt to hide it from sight. “I didn’t mean to scare you and- I would never take anything against your will, so if,” a part of Shiro, a meaner selfish part, was screaming at him not to say what he was about to say, but he shut it out, “if you wish me to leave this instant, I won’t question it.”

Silence that followed seemed to be the heaviest Shiro had ever experienced, he steeled himself for a short dismissal, but it didn’t come and the wait was unbearable.

“Lance, don’t-,” Shiro didn’t have time to become irritated at the other alpha’s rude interjection because he suddenly felt a warm palm touching his left shoulder. It squeezed slightly through the fabric, encouraging him to raise his head. The moment their eyes met Shiro’s chest started to fill with heavy longing, making him gulp nervously in an attempt to quell the rapid beating of his heart.

“Your name is Takashi, right?” the omega asked in a voice so soft Shiro barely held back a purr. He couldn’t remember last time he heard his name uttered so sweetly, ever since he joined the troops he mostly came by Shiro because of a single strand of grey hair he had in the front. It appeared after a fire that almost killed his mother and destroyed half of their possessions, giving him the biggest scare of his adolescent life. By the time he was discharged the white had spread considerably. Only it wasn’t anything like the pearly lustrous white of a life giver, but rather dull and washed-out, a perfect manifestation of his bleak existence.

“Yes,” he whispered, entranced by the proximity to the beautiful boy. Now that he had calmed down a little his scent was so much more pleasant, Shiro couldn’t help inhaling deeper and even opened his mouth a little in an attempt to get a better taste. Lance was so close, all he had to do to touch the dark bare skin was reach out, but he didn’t dare.

“I sense no malice in you,” the omega said next, and Shiro felt that this was his chance to prove himself, to show how badly he wanted to please the life giver and that he was ready to give up anything for his approval.

“I never intended to be an intruder, and I understand if you don’t want me here, after what I did to the door and- and at the arena... For all that I’m sorry,” he said hurriedly, hoping against hope to keep the nervous tremble out of his voice. He felt like his next words would seal his fate. “I won’t ask for the prize that isn’t meant for me.”

He risked raising his eyes a little higher from the floor and now had Lance’s thighs, still hidden under the flowing fabric, in his line of vision. Shiro couldn’t see Keith, but he didn’t need to to feel the presence of the other alpha, standing right behind Lance ready to attack, to protect the omega from him.

“Lance,” he called, tone pitched low in warning, and the next thing Shiro knew was blue rimmed with white, peering into his very soul. Lance had sunk to his knees to be level with him and was now studying his face, as if looking for a hint of something. Shiro held still, silently praying to the Gods he had whatever it was.

“You really are kind at heart, aren’t you?” this might not have been the question Shiro expected, but it shook him to the core. How could the life giver- how could anyone suggest he was kind after everything he’d done at the arena? Didn’t Lance say he had seen it himself?

“I-I don’t- I’m not-,” he stumbled over his words, feeling very exposed and even vulnerable before the omega’s now curious gaze.

“Yes, you are, even with the corrupted magic flowing through your veins you managed to keep your soul and sanity,” now Shiro was truly lost. “This is incredible,” Lance whispered, genuinely astonished and glancing back at Keith with a small disbelieving smile. The alpha only frowned in response.

“I don’t understand, what is this magic you’re talking about?” Shiro knew, of course, of the power his prosthetic had endowed him with but to learn it was corrupted?

“Druid magic,” it was Keith who answered, harsh and unforgiving, as if he wanted to wound Shiro with the words alone. And in a way he succeeded.

Those two little words tainted everything. The new life given to him by the omega who had saved him from a severe injury, him fighting at the arena without a single defeat, even when he stood against the strongest and fiercest warriors, and finally being chosen by the dream-like young life giver along with the other alpha. All that he tried to see as the Gods’ blessings, convincing himself there must’ve been a touch of divine providence in every good thing that ever happened to him - all that now lay in ruins.

Now Shiro saw with blinding clarity that he had been fooling himself all along, and that he could very well be the monster Keith believed him to be from the very start.

“It may have affected you, but hasn’t fully changed you like it usually does,” Lance touched the side of his cheek and then reached to run his fingers through Shiro’s white hair. “I can tell,” and then he smiled at Shiro, as if sensing how badly the alpha needed his reassurance at the moment. The day brought him one great shock after another and he felt like he was about to break.

“It’s... good, then?” he said, unsure, and Lance nodded. “I... thank you,” Shiro breathed out, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the omega’s caressing hand. The gentle touch and the sweet calming scent were the only things that anchored him, not letting him slip into an abyss of self-doubt and self-destruction.

However, they weren’t alone in the room, and no matter how hard Shiro wanted to pretend he had Lance’s attention all to himself, at least for a while, it was obviously not so. Thinking about it was eating away at Shiro’s already rapidly waning confidence, but he had to admit that the way Lance was attuned to Keith was simply mesmerising. Even as the omega was consoling him (and doing it with innocent sincerity, Shiro could tell) his fingers started trembling the moment Keith released a low angry growl, as if the alpha’s agitation was channelled straight into his own body.

“You can’t possibly be thinking of accepting him!” Shiro snapped his eyes open and saw Lance standing up, his head already turned in the other boy’s direction.

“Keith, listen, it’s the only way,” the warm delicate hand withdrew and Shiro immediately felt the weight of this loss, but he still managed to suppress the impulse to follow it. To seize the body he so desperately desired after getting the first taste. He knew he could easily fight off Keith, this bratty little imposter, and become Lance’s only mate. He wouldn’t even break a sweat, druid magic or not. But there was something more important than showcasing his strength and superiority, and that was gaining Lance’s trust. So Shiro kept kneeling on the stone floor, a perfect picture of obedience and self-control.

“What makes you think letting him take off your harness is a good idea,” Keith’s voice dropped to a fierce whisper but from this distance Shiro could hear every word.

“I have to, but maybe,” at this Lance sneaked a quick peek behind him, nervous blue eyes meeting Shiro’s hopeful ones for a split second. “Maybe he’ll agree to do us a favour,” and then Lance leaned close and said something right into Keith’s ear, something that made the alpha’s mouth drop a little and his face flush red. The omega slowly drew back, as if letting his words sink in, and then cocked his head to the side, waiting for Keith’s reply.

It came a few moments later in the form of a jerky nod and a soft murmur, “Alright.”

Lance turned, looking like he debated jumping off the edge of a cliff, and started speaking before he lost his nerve.

“Takashi, you are my chosen mate, and you have the right to have me - all of me - and to take my- my harness off, but Keith does too, and I,” Lance sat on his knees in front of Shiro, letting the alpha tower over his lithe form. His expression was earnest and his lips trembled a little. “I love him, you see. I love him more than life.”

Shiro could barely comprehend the meaning of those words, his head spinning from the beautiful display of submission so graciously given to him by the omega. Too bad he couldn’t admire it for too long because Lance was practically twitching with nerves as he waited for his reaction.

“I... understand,” Shiro glanced at Keith who was staring right back in guarded anticipation, probably waiting for an angry outburst from him. And as much as Shiro would like to eliminate competition, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it. Not if it meant upsetting Lance who held the young alpha so dear to his heart. After all he was left with only one option. “You want me gone.”

“No! It’s not-,” Lance looked flustered and his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, making his blue marks stand out even more. “I want to fulfil my duty and to have your- Gods,” he squeezed his eyes shut, and Shiro could see the rosy blush spread down to his delicate neck adorned with white leather. After a moment Lance tried again, “I want every bit of what you have to give but before that, please,” he grabbed both of Shiro’s hands in his and Shiro could swear his heart almost stopped, “Please, let Keith be my first.”

That simple request had rendered Shiro speechless. What Lance implied was equal parts tempting and potentially agonising. He’d get to have the life giver, to touch him and to claim him, but to do that he’d have to witness his rival do it first. Would he be able to restrain himself from lashing out and putting an end to the unwanted display? But at this point even if he left them alone and waited for his turn elsewhere the knowledge that Lance was held by another alpha and enjoyed it - it would plague his mind until he could take no more.

“If that’s what you wish, then so be it,” Shiro replied slowly, almost succeeding to keep his voice steady. It was getting harder to hold up the calm exterior by the minute and he was afraid his apprehension was leaking into his scent.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to worry so much about it because the moment he finished speaking Lance breathed out in relief and turned to Keith, no doubt smiling at him and radiating happiness. In fact, his excitement and pure joy were so great they could as well be painting the room in blues and whites - the colours Shiro now associated with everything sweet and pure. With Lance himself. Only all too soon he would be stripped of his harness and defiled by an inexperienced fledgling alpha.

Shiro took a moment to look at Keith, to size him up, and found the boy letting a soft shy smile appear on his face. Now that he thought about it, it was the first time Shiro actually saw him lower his guard and give a glimpse of his true self. Shiro finally saw him for who he really was: a young man, deeply in love and terrified of what the future had in store for them, but still prepared to fight tooth and nail for the slightest chance of happiness, however fleeting it would be. And it appeared that by the whim of fate Shiro was the one who would be tearing it away.

“Thank you, Takashi,” Lance said, smiling at him, but from the way his body was angled away Shiro could tell that all the omega wanted right now was to be close to Keith. His beloved. Shiro clenched his fists but still bowed his head to show he appreciated his gratitude. Then he rose to his feet and shifted awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do with himself now. Should he stand somewhere by the wall while he waited, or should he better take a seat in the wicket chair that stood closer to the bed?

Lance stepped away and Shiro expected him to go embrace the young alpha immediately, but he climbed on the bed instead. As he did so the silky blue fabric of his gown hiked up his legs and Shiro saw a pair of white leather cuffs on his ankles. They were matching the ones on his wrists in all but their size, being wider and looking a bit thicker as well. But what really caught Shiro’s curious gaze were two sturdy-looking rings looped through each cuff on the outer side. Shiro frowned. Those didn’t look like the ornamental gold ones he spotted at Lance’s waist and shoulders because they were thin and obviously meant only to hold the flowing garment close to the omega’s body. No, these rings’ purpose was quite different, that much was certain.

“They’re part of my bondage too,” Lance suddenly spoke up and ran his fingers over the leather, touching the metal with strange reluctance. Shiro looked at his face and found his expression distant, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. He wanted to say something to distract Lance from his thoughts, but before he could come up with the right words Keith joined the omega on the bed, enveloping the lithe willowy body in a confident protective hug.

Right, that’s how it was supposed to be. No need for petty jealousy.

“I want it off so bad,” Lance said quietly, not really addressing any of them, and sounded so small Shiro wanted nothing more in the moment than to smother him with love and affection. Keith, apparently, felt the same as he nuzzled at Lance’s neck, rubbing just a little above the collar, trying to reach his covered glands, to scent him. And Shiro couldn’t tear his eyes away.

In fact, he was so fixed on the sight he almost missed Lance’s next words.

“Will you help me out of it?” he asked. Shiro looked up from the omega’s beautiful delicate neck, wishing he could be the one ravishing it so unceremoniously, and didn’t understand at first that the question was actually meant for him. But it couldn’t be. Lance couldn’t possibly want him to-

“I- Didn’t you want to- the two of you- I mean, to do it without me?” Shiro could feel his face being consumed by the scorching heat of shame as he got that awfully jumbled phrase out. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Keith had stilled his movements and just held Lance close now. He felt his rival watching him make a stuttering fool of himself but stubbornly refused to acknowledge it and looked only at the life giver.

“This is your right as my chosen mate, and I wouldn’t take it from you,” Lance said meekly, fumbling with the golden fastenings on his waist and not meeting his gaze. Shiro had a suspicion then that he was still trying to appease him after such a bold request, but knew he would be insane to refuse right now.

It _was_ his right, his pride kept whispering at him, he _did_ deserve it.

Lance tugged the blue fabric free, and as it slid off his legs and spread apart in the front, revealing the harness in all its white leather glory, Shiro’s resolve finally broke and he stepped forward.

He would claim his prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While you wait for the update you can check out Waiting to Bloom - a Klance prequel for this story.


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